Chieftain (Historical Romance) Read Free Page B

right through you. I’ve drilled on early mornings when I honestly feared I’d get frostbite and lose my toes.”
    Maggie madea cluck of sympathy. “Poor Dave,” she said, turning to look squarely at him, the moonlight striking her full in the face.
    Dave Finley stared at Maggie, enchanted. Maggie saw him swallow hard and noted the little shudder that swept through his slim frame.
    “Now, Dave…” she began.
    “Oh, Maggie, girl,” Dave interrupted, his tone soft, his eyes softer.
    He lifted a hand and gently placed it in her bright red hair at the side of her head. Maggie sighed. He wanted to kiss her. She knew he did. She would have let him, but she knew she shouldn’t encourage him. It wouldn’t be fair to let him think that she shared his feelings.
    “Dave,” she said again, placing her hand atop his where it lay against her hair. “You know that your friendship means a great deal to me and—”
    “One kiss, Maggie,” he said. “That’s all. I’d never ask for anything more.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Maggie exclaimed, growing exasperated. “Kiss me and get it over with then!” She closed her eyes, puckered her lips and looked as if she were about to take a bitter dose of medicine.
    Dave Finley shook his head sadly. Then he laughed. “Open your eyes, Maggie, I’m not going to kiss you.”
    Her eyes openedin surprise. “Why not? I said you could.”
    Smiling indulgently, he took her hand and, rising, drew her to her feet with him. “I don’t want to kiss a woman who acts as if she’s about to be horse-whipped.”
    “I was not, I—”
    “Good night, Maggie.” The lieutenant leaned down, brushed his lips against her cheek.
    Maggie smiled at him. “You’re not angry, are you, Dave?”
    “Perhaps a little hurt, but I’ll get over it.”
    Maggie patted his shoulder affectionately. “I wouldn’t want to lose a friend like you.”
    “You won’t.” And then he was gone.
    Maggie watched him walk away. When he disappeared around the corner of a stone building, she stood for a few moments longer in the moonlight, then turned and went inside.
    “It’s me,” she said softly in the darkness.
    Pistol, her beloved silver-furred wolfhound, raised his head, barked a lazy greeting, then went back to dozing before the cold fireplace.
    Maggie didn’t light a lamp. She undressed in the darkness. She drew her nightgown down over her head, yawned and got into bed. She stretched out on her back and folded her hands beneath her head. A gentle night breeze lifted the window curtains directly beside her bed.
    Maggie sighed with pleasure. Fall had finally come. She so looked forward to the brisk autumn days and the cold clear nights. And she wondered what exciting new changes would the new season bring?
    Maggie’s blueeyes flashed with anticipation. Smiling, she turned onto her stomach, yanked her gown high up on her thighs and punched her pillow.
    In minutes she was sound asleep.

Three
    I n the middleof the night Shanaco awakened abruptly from a deep, dreamless slumber.
    His hundred-year-old Comanche grandfather was calling to him as clearly as if the ancient chief were here in the room.
    Shanaco lunged up in bed.
    Heart hammering, he swept his long, loose hair back off his face and swung his legs over the mattress’s edge. He reached for the thin leather cord lying on the night table and hurriedly tied back his hair. The movement awakened the blonde.
    “What is it?” she asked sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
    “I have to go,” Shanaco said, and stood up.
    “Go? Now? It’s the middle of the night, still dark outside,” said Dana, sitting up, clutching the sheet to her breasts. “Get back in this bed, lover.”
    Shanaco did not reply. He crossed the room, pulled open a bureau drawer and removed a pair of soft buckskin trousers and matching shirt. He drew on the pants, laced up the front fly and grabbed the buckskin shirt. He slipped the shirt over his head, shoved his arms through the long